


5 Times Diego Lost Sleep

by PepperF



Series: Diego whump [23]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: F/M, I'll be honest this is only barely whump, Whumptober 2020, five things fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:28:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27163174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PepperF/pseuds/PepperF
Summary: Five times Diego didn't get his full 8 hours.
Relationships: Diego Hargreeves/Eudora Patch, Diego Hargreeves/Lila Pitts
Series: Diego whump [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951318
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	5 Times Diego Lost Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Bethany for the speedy beta-read on this one. ;)

A drawer, pulled out and lined with towels, makes a small, safe space for the as-yet unnamed baby, later to become Number Two, and even later Diego. Voices in a language he never learns are arguing in another room as he blinks fuzzily against the light. His tiny fist wraps instinctively around the finger that brushes his own.

"I'm sorry, _mijo_ ," whispers a voice. "But it's for the best."

He grips tighter, as if aware of what he's about to lose, but his feeble strength is useless against the decisions being made around him. As he's plucked out of his comfortable spot, he lets out a thin wail.

\---

He's never been afraid of monsters under the bed at the Academy, tentacles reaching out to grab his unwary feet, because tentacles belong to Ben, and Ben is nice. But there are other monsters in the Academy, and they're not all so friendly.

Diego stares wide-eyed into the dark, and listens for another creak. Down the hall, he can hear Klaus's comforting snore—but he's a long ways away, and to get to him, he'd have to sneak past... _It_. The big, scary shadow in the dark. 

The closet.

He moves slowly, so slowly that nothing will see him. Now he's got a good view, as much as he can have in the dark.

It looks much bigger than it did in the daylight.

Did he leave the door open? He tries to remember, but fear makes it hard to think. It's like his brain has a stammer, too.

The door sways in some unknown breeze, and he tries not to make a sound, but it's _hard_. Maybe he's just seeing things in the dark—Dad would tell him to pull himself together—but Diego's breath is getting faster, and if there is something there, it's going to figure out he's awake soon.

Slowly, cautiously, he moves his arm out...

In the dim light, there's a silvery flash—and a scream.

"Diego! You could have killed me!"

He sits up, terror washed away by outrage. "Allison! Why are you in my closet?!"

"What's going on?" calls a sleepy voice from another room.

Downstairs, a light goes on. He meets Allison's eyes.

_Uh-oh._

\---

The gym closes late, and by the time it does, the old guy who runs it is tired and distracted.

Diego heads for the lockers to change, and dawdles there while the guy goes through his usual closing-up routine—sweeping, tidying, grumbling, cashing out the register. While he's not looking, it's easy enough to slip further back into the bowels of the building. He follows his usual path to the warmest room, because it's cold at night, and checks that his bedroll is still stashed neatly under the disused work bench—the one he'd like to use to fix some of his knives, if only it wouldn't draw attention. Maybe he can learn where everything goes, and put it back afterwards. It's risky, but he knows he'll soon be undisturbed here until the morning.

He freezes as the old man goes muttering past the door, heading for the safe in the back office, to put away the day's takings. Diego could tell him about fifty different ways to beef up his security, if it wouldn't bite him in the ass. Maybe when he finds somewhere more permanent, he'll leave an anonymous note. After a few minutes, there's a distant slam, the sound of the back door closing, and Diego relaxes.

He putters around for a while, eats the sandwich he bought—his delivery job pays enough to keep him in food and clothes, if not lodgings—and then, for lack of anything else to do, settles in for the night. After all, he's got to be up early, so he can get out before the place opens.

And then the lights snap on. It's not exactly a blaze, but it startles him out of the half-doze he'd fallen into, and he sits up, heart pounding, knife already in his hand.

"What the hell are you doing, kid?"

He stares up at the old man, who—against all the odds—had managed to sneak in without Diego hearing. "I-I'm s-sorry," is all he can come up with. He must have been more tired than he thought, but shit... _shit_ , he's going to have to find somewhere else to sleep tonight, it's already late but he has to work tomorrow, he can't afford to lose this job—

The old man turns around. "I'm not a goddamn charity," he yells, over his shoulder. "Come and talk to me tomorrow about how you're gonna pay for the room!"

The lights blink out again, and Diego is left staring into the dark, more than a little confused.

\---

"I'm tired, Eudora."

He falls back into her bed as she crawls over him, grinning down at him. "Poor baby," she purrs, trailing a hand up his side and making him twitch. "Should I let you rest?"

"Oh yeah. I need my beauty sleep."

"Uh-huh." Her hand travels up and smooths across his chest, her eyes dropping to follow it.

"I feel like you're not listening to me."

"Mm-hmm." She bites her lip in that way that drives him crazy, but he holds himself perfectly still beneath her. He loves this part, the anticipation...

"Really. So tired." Her hand is following a line down the center of his torso, drifting lower, and he suppresses a groan. "Sleep," is the most coherent protest he can manage, as her fingers trail past the waistband of his boxers.

He gets the feeling he's not going to get his full eight hours tonight.

But he can live with that.

\---

There's a lump on the pull-out couch that's poking him in the kidneys.

Diego shifts uncomfortably, but that just moves him onto another lump. He shuffles further across. Luckily, he's got the whole bed to himself, now.

'Luckily.' Sure.

He wonders where Lila is sleeping tonight. Remembers her face as he told her he couldn't trust her, the way her expression tightened...

He sits up, in sudden doubt. What if she wasn't...whatever Five thought she was? What if she was just some innocent woman who'd tagged along on his escape from the asylum, thinking she could trust him, that he'd be there for her, and he'd just left her out there all alone— _abandoned_ her?

No. No, she could defend herself. He recalls what she'd been like in action, reassuring himself. Hell, she'd helped him escape, and she'd beaten up one of those goons at the embassy—she was the furthest thing from helpless that he's seen, outside of his family. 

He settles back down, and tries to find a comfortable spot. It's not working, but he keeps trying anyhow.

They parted pretty late, though, and Dallas in the sixties isn't exactly a friendly place for a woman like her. She doesn't have any money as far as he knows, so it's not like she can check into a hotel or something. But she's smart and capable, so she'll probably find some other poor sucker like Elliott, someone she can manipulate and push around, make him think she's his friend, that she likes him...

He glares into the darkness. 

She can do what she likes. She's a free woman. And Five was right, there's definitely something hinky going on with her. They're all better off with her gone. He can get on with his personal mission, and Five can save the world or whatever—without her help, or sabotage, or whatever she was planning.

All the same, he hopes she has somewhere safe to sleep tonight.


End file.
